


familiarity (there's none of it)

by fizzyguy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slytherin Harry Potter, be patient with me here, playing fast and loose with canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-22 04:22:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30032994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzyguy/pseuds/fizzyguy
Summary: Harry Potter receives his hogwarts acceptance letter from an owl, in the Dursley's backyard, in the middle of the night.This changes things.(Harry Potter is less like his parents than assumed, and he is even less like a hero. He'd just like to have a couple of friends, that's all.)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 28





	1. beginnings arent always new

Harry Potter’s life has always been a little upside-down, so when his life got turned upside-down officially, it wasn’t as much of a shock as it should’ve been. He knew things like growing his hair back overnight after his aunt had shorn it, being in one place- blinking- and being in another place, talking to snakes and shrinking Dudley’s old worn-out boots to fit his own feet weren’t normal, but he still managed to do them, often completely on accident. It wasn’t a surprise, if he thought about it, that an owl of all things perched itself on the backyard fence and held its leg out with a small envelope addressed to him attached to it.

It was dark, for which he was glad, the neighbours wouldn’t see the large bird of prey that stared Harry down until he grabbed the envelope. His uncle usually sent him out to do the gardening and weeding of a night-time, so that he wouldn’t die of heatstroke in the summer sun. He had had a close call the other week, and they couldn’t risk either him dying, or worse, having to go to the hospital, so he had been sent out late ever since.

Of course, then, the Dursleys didn’t see Harry receiving his first ever letter, an invitation of sorts to a boarding school of Magic, along with a list of needed supplies and a train ticket for platform 9 & 3/4. They didn’t see the owl flying off after giving Harry a bow and a nibble at his fingers holding the thick parchment. It was called Hogwarts, and apparently his late parents had already paid for his stay there for the whole seven years of his education there pre-emptively.

As far fetched as it sounded, it made some sense in hindsight. He did a lot of weird things, things that he by all rights should not be able to do as an ordinary person. His aunt and uncle loathed it with a passion and had even resorted to attempting to beat the oddity out of Harry, punishing anything they deemed as ‘weird’ or ‘freakish’. Being a wizard (he’s assuming wizard is the right word) explained a lot, being an untrained one even more so.

There was no harm in seeing if it all was real anyway, it seemed way too elaborate for anyone in Little Whinging to hatch up. Harry hummed, shoving the envelope with the letters back inside down his underwear and getting back to work. No one in the house dared to come near his privates, so they wouldn’t be able to find anything he hid down there.

This school apparently didn’t start for a couple of weeks, so Harry had some time to plan. He needed to figure out how he was going to explain his absence. Not that he really cared to, but the Dursleys had a weird incentive to keep him in the house. The last time he had run away and got found by Mrs Figg and brought back to Privet Drive, they had been nice to him for a couple weeks, until they had decided that he wasn’t going to leave again.

Maybe they were just scared he’d dob them in to the police.

Later that night, after finishing his chores, Harry sat on his dingy mattress, pulled out the letter and began to read it again. He had to think. There were so many things he didn’t know, and the letter had been annoyingly vague. He had a clue how to get to the school, the train ticket for the Hogwarts Express. But, he assumed, he would have to have his uniform and supplies before then, assuming again that the whole thing was real. There weren’t owls in the area, naturally, outside of zoos, and it would definitely be impossible to take one of them out of the zoo, unless someone privately owned one. Harry wasn’t going to be able to figure that one out, but again, it was a little too elaborate for a prank.

Not only that, but the address on the envelope said ‘Harry. J. Potter, Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privet Drive’, and no one outside of the Dursleys knew he slept there, and wouldn’t say it out loud, nor dare to write it on a piece of paper. Maybe there was a return address.

Harry flipped the envelope over, on the opening side in the corner there was a return address, but it didn’t seem very helpful. ‘Deputy Headmistress- Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts School of Magic, Scotland’. He wondered if there was a way to get that owl to come back so he could send a return letter with his questions.

Well, writing a return letter was going to have to wait until the morning when he could pilfer a pen and paper, never mind trying to figure out how to get it to Minerva McGonagall. Shoving it all under his mattress, he flopped down with a sigh and force himself to start to fall asleep. He had a big day tomorrow; it was Dudley’s birthday and had to help prepare all of the food his cousin would undoubtedly consume in the morning.

…

Harry woke to three sharp raps at his cupboard door, and his Aunt’s shrill voice demanding him to get up and start breakfast. Resolutely, he shook off the lingering feelings of hurt-confused-upset still lingering from a dream he couldn’t remember. He shoved his glasses on his face, and, still in his previous clothes from the night before, he got up and trudged to the kitchen.

He passed the living room on the way and it was filled with presents, huge presents of all shapes that looked professionally wrapped. He ignored the envy searing his bones and, after washing his hands at the sink, began to get out a few pots and pans for breakfast.

He ended up piling the dining table high with plates of pancakes, bacon, sausages, eggs, beans and toast, alongside juice for Dudley and an oversized mug of black coffee for Uncle Vernon. His Aunt preferred to make her own coffee, so he left her mug on the kitchen bench. Harry wasn’t allowed to have breakfast with them, and he was only allowed a small bowl of cornflakes with water from the tap to eat for his own.

With his spoon in his mouth and bowl of cereal in hand, he sat down on the kitchen floor to eat. Harry began to watch through his wild hair as his cousin trampled down the stairs followed by his uncle. The happy family sat down on the couch and he watched as Dudley counted the presents, and satisfied with the number, began to tear through the meticulous wrapping on them like it was nothing.

Harry ate his cereal; it was so bland it even got rid of the taste of his mouth. When he was done, he began to do the dishes, and heard the Dursleys finally settle at the table behind him and begin to eat their breakfast. Harry thinks the Dursley’s would be the type to own slaves if they could (they basically did, keeping him in the house, but you didn’t hear that from Harry) and still enjoy their lives the same way they do now.

With breakfast over and the table cleared, Harry’s uncle explains from behind a newspaper that Mrs Figg broke her leg last night in an accident and can’t look after Harry. There was no one else in Little Whinging that was willing or able to take care of him, and they all knew it, so they had no choice but to take him with them to the zoo with them. It wasn’t ideal, and they hated the idea of Dudley’s special day being spoiled with Harry’s presence, but it was that or leave him at home.

Harry, standing at the sink, back ramrod straight, listened as Dudley devolved into a tantrum, even shoving his foot into his brand-new television in his rage. He could feel the excitement thrumming in his chest but kept his face blank, if they knew how much he wanted to go, even if it was with Dudley and his friend, they’d definitely keep him home. He’d never been to the zoo before. He nearly felt sick with nerves as he drained the sink, and Aunt Petunia snapped at him to get changed into something more presentable, before going to calm down the hurricane that was Dudley’s tantrum.

Harry didn’t own any nice clothes, only Dudley’s cast-offs that weren’t overly expensive. Shucking off his shirt, he rifled through the small box in the corner or the cupboard that held his clothes. He found a grey collared shirt that was from a dinner a few years ago, before his cousin had reached adult sizes. He shoved it on and managed to find a pair of jeans sat at the bottom of the box. Harry’s own knee slammed into his bony chest when he tried to pull off the pants he had on while standing, so he let himself fall onto the mattress to try and wrangle himself out of his clothes.

With his jeans replaced, his shirt sleeves rolled up and boots on his feet, Harry shoved his fingers through his unruly hair in an attempt to tame it. He waited in his cupboard, sitting on his bare mattress for someone to come get him. He knew that if the Dursley’s saw him dressed and ready to go, it would be like rubbing salt into their wound. A while later, a fist slammed against his door, and his uncle snapped at him to come out, it was time to go.

...

Being squished against the car door was uncomfortable to say the least, and Dudley’s friend Piers kept his legs spread as wide as possible so harry had to press his knees against the door. The parking lot was filled to the brim with cars, and Uncle Vernon was starting to get angry with the lack of free spaces. It took a long time to find one, and it was far from the entrance, much to his chagrin.

Harry nearly tumbled out of the door when he opened it. He bumped into the car next to him, and heard Dudley and Piers laugh at him. Internally, Harry grumbled. It was always like this when he was stuck with Piers and Dudley. Surprisingly, when his cousin was alone, Dudley preferred to steer clear of Harry, and they often just ignored each other entirely. But as soon as Piers Polkiss comes along, Harry becomes a target for bullying.

The walk to the zoo entrance came with challenges. Every few steps, either Piers or Dudley would attempt to trip him. Harry was used to it, and it almost became a game of how long he could stay standing. Not only that, but his Uncle was getting even more angry, because there were a lot of people trying to find a park, and they had to keep stopping to let the cars pass.

The zoo was packed with people, it was hard not to bump into anyone wherever Harry walked. The large size of both Vernon and Dudley made cutting through crowds easier, sure, but Harry was forced to the side, like the Dursleys wanted to pretend he wasn’t with them. Which was fine by him.

They stopped at an ice cream stand first, Dudley getting three scoops of strawberry, Piers two scoops of mint, and Harry, quick to order when the person asked, before his uncle could butt in, got a single scoop of salted caramel ice cream. It was like heaven on his tongue, and Harry made sure to savour it even as he scarfed it down before it could be taken away from him.

The insect section of the zoo was first, and they sped through it, his aunt being repulsed by the number of bugs and arachnids in the one place. Dudley didn’t care for bugs much, aside from when him and Piers shove grasshoppers down the back of Harry’s shirt for fun. Harry thought the stick insect was cool, even though he could barely see it. They passed through the bird exhibit; the noise of other excited kids barely louder than the birds themselves.

Then, they got into the reptile section. Piers seemed to be drawn to the lizards, the spiky kind that tended to look like tiny dragons. He was pressed against the glass pretty firmly until Dudley dragged him off to look at a huge snake. Harry trudged behind them and peered at the snake. It was ginormous, brown coloured and spotty, the plaque under the glass window calling it a Burmese Python and that it had been captured rather than raised in captivity. It laid wrapped around a tree. Harry supposed the reason why the tank wasn’t surrounded by children is the snake seemed to be doing absolutely nothing at all, apparently asleep.

Dudley got annoyed at it fast, confusion and frustration painting his voice as he complained about the snake that was still sleeping. He slapped a hand against the glass, snapping at it to move, and Harry rolled his eyes. Piers grunted in annoyance, and tugged Dudley away to something much more exciting.

“Sorry about him,” Harry murmured to the snake, shaking his head. “That was awfully rude, he doesn’t know any better, though.”

To Harry’s shock, the python lifted its head, staring at Harry in surprise.

“ _You spoke to me,_ ” the snake hissed. “ _You speak our language,”_

“Oh, yeah,” Harry nodded. “I don’t know how, though.”

“ _Young one, the language of snakes is rare in the two-legged,_ ” the snake uncoiled a little around the branch, turning to face Harry a little better. “ _I can feel the power from you, you are a child of Magic, and speaking the language of snakes is a skill found only among the Magics with the blood of Salazar._ ”

“Oh,” Harry said. “I don’t really understand all of that, but thanks for telling me. Do you mind if I ask, though, how do you know all that? The last snake I spoke to only talked about their dinner.”

“ _I am no ordinary snake, young one. I am a child of Magic as well,_ ”

“Oh, you’re a wizard snake then?”

The python laughed, a low pulsed hissing that brought a smile to Harry’s face despite his confusion.

“ _I suppose so_ ,” the snake agreed. “ _I can tell you some more, if you help me escape_.”

The offer was tempting. Harry now had confirmation that the whole magic thing was real, if the snake wasn’t pulling a prank on him, too. It was the only lead he had, and if the snake was willing to tell him more, he had nothing much to lose as long as he didn’t get caught letting the snake out.

“I’ll help you, and you tell me everything you know,” Harry murmured, and the snake bobbed its head in agreement.

Harry nodded, put a hand on his chin and began to think. He had done some crazy things before, and even thought this takes the cake, he was pretty sure he could do it. There wasn’t really anything around to help him break the glass, and it was bound to get him caught if he smashed it. Maybe he could do the ‘in one spot-blink-in another spot’ teleport thing, but Harry doesn’t even know how he did that in the first place, let alone how to do it on someone else.

Harry felt frustration begin to claw at his chest. If the glass wasn’t there, there wouldn’t be a bloody problem in the first place, and he could just take the python and go! Harry went to cross his arms, but the sound of a small pop right next to him snapped him back to attention.

The glass was gone. Entirely. Like it was never there in the first place, and Harry’s wide eyes locked with the snakes. It quickly slithered out of the enclosure, sliding between Harry legs and beginning to hurry down the hall. People quickly noticed the escaped python after a lady screamed, and chaos ensued. Harry caught eyes with the snake when it glanced back through a man’s legs and began to sprint through the startled crowd, following behind it.

Harry followed the snake outside, the both of them somehow staying undetected through the chaos. People were leaving as fast as they could, and Harry sprinted through the parking lot behind the python, weaving around the escaping vehicles.

They ended up at a creek that ran near the zoo and followed it into a small group of trees near an overpass. Harry was exhausted, pulling air into his lungs as hard as he could, and it still didn’t seem like enough. He flopped onto the dirt and looked at the snake that loosely coiled in front of him, gasping for breath.

“Right, okay,” Harry breathed. “I’m pretty sure I did that,”

“ _Yes_ ,” the python almost purred, which was weird because snakes hiss. “ _And you did well, young one_ ,”

“Okay,” Harry muttered to himself, nodding. “okay. What’s your name and pronouns, by the way? I forgot to ask earlier, I’m Harry Potter and I usually go by him.”

He looked up at the snake that was staring at him curiously.

“ _I am Alastor, young one, my pronouns are them and they. It is a pleasure to know you, Harry Potter_ ,”

“Uh, you too,” Harry nodded at Alastor, a little stiffly. “If you don’t mind me asking, what do you know about magic? I didn’t know I had any, until recently, I thought I was just weird.”

“ _Being a child of Magic is a little different for animals and creatures than the two-legged. Snakes, and other animals like owls and toads, are more like familiars, and usually enter a magical contract in order to use their Magic to the fullest potential_.” The python settled more comfortably, shifting in the dirt. “ _You and I entered an unofficial contract, the deal we made, which allowed me to hide you from the eyes of Non-Magics in order to assist with the fulfillment of the contract. I am magically obligated to tell you my knowledge, though a loose deal like this is easily broken_.”

Harry nodded in understanding when Alastor paused to see if he had taken in what they said.

“ _The two-legged children of Magic have more freedom in it’s use, though because of that, it is usually less refined and less specific. It is more like, how do I say, painting with a broad stroke rather than a thin one. The control is only as strong as the user, and unlike in familiars, doesn’t get more refined within the bounds of a contract, instead with practice and training_.”

“Okay,” Harry said. “Why are only some people able to have magic and not others? I’m the only one I know that can do things like get rid of that glass.”

“ _Blood,_ ” Alastor said. “ _Those with Magic in their blood are the only ones who can wield its power. Even within a family of Non-Magic, if there is even a single child of Magic in their lineage somewhere, it is possible for their descendants to manifest the power. This is regardless of species_. _That is all I know_.”

“I think my parents were children of Magic,” Harry said thoughtfully. “Thank you for telling me all of that. Can I ask you for help with something else?”

The snake hummed in thought.

“ _Outside of a contract, I am unable to do very much. I was unable to escape captivity under my own power. I am afraid I will not be of much use to you. I am unwilling to be captured again, and no doubt, the two-legged will be hunting me down_.” Alastor paused, thinking. “ _I am willing to become your familiar. You are young and need help and guidance that I am willing to give, and within a magical contract I am able to remain hidden. What are your thoughts?_ ”

“That sounds good, actually,” Harry nodded. “I do need help, and there isn’t anyone who can really give it to me at the moment aside from you. I don’t want you to be captured again either, people shouldn’t do that to anyone in the first place, its gross. What do I have to do?”

“ _Place your hand out, and I will do the rest. In order to create a proper contract between master and familiar, your blood must be drawn, and mixed with mine. The Old Magic will do the work, and all you will need to do is say the agreement verbally_ ,”

Harry placed his hand, palm up, between him and Alastor.

He watched the snake as he started to glow with golden light that seemed to reach into Harry, coaxing his power out to mix with it. He watched as the magic sliced his palm open, blood pooling in his hand. Alastor leant over and spilt their own blood into his hand from a cut on the side of their neck.

“ _Under the eyes of Sun and Moon, under the power of mothers Earth and Magic, I hereby declare myself, Alastor, child of Magic, wholly and resolutely, the Familiar of Harry Potter, child of Magic, until the time of Breaking, either by Death or Dissolution. Mote it be_.”

Alastor’s voice was lilting and hissing, formal in its speech. Harry felt the words in snake tongue spill from his mouth and he let them.

“Under the eyes of Moon and Sun, under the power of Mothers Magic and Earth, I hereby declare myself, Harry Potter, child of Magic, wholly and resolutely, the Master of Alastor, child of Magic, until the time of breaking, either by Death or Dissolution. Mote it be.”

The blood in Harry’s palm dripped from his hand, the magic made of his and Alastor’s and Old Magic spun below his hand, absorbing the blood. It rose up and up, Alastor resting their scaly head in Harry’s bloody palm as the golden light swallowed it.

The Old Magic accepted the contract, and as the light faded, taking the blood with it, a connection between the Master and Familiar replaced it from within, and the cuts on both of their bodies were but a small, thin scar.

Harry trekked back to the Dursley’s car alone. Alastor had disappeared with a pop, after Harry had said that his relatives would surely beat him black and blue if he showed up with the escaped snake, so they said they would be hiding in the Dursley’s backyard to wait for him. He wasn’t gone for long at all, about half an hour, and there was still lingering chaos in the parking lot, with a team of zookeepers trying to find the runaway python.

His Uncle Vernon stood next to the car, glaring around for Harry. He stomped towards Harry as soon as he spotted him. Vernon grabbed his shoulder tightly and bent down so his mouth was near Harry’s ear.

“Boy, so help me, if I find out you had something to do with that _blasted_ snake escaping, you are going without food for a week!” He growled.

“I didn’t, I swear,” Harry said quietly. “It was as much of a shock to me as everyone else. I got lost after I ran away from the snake, sorry Uncle Vernon.”

He grunted, and shoved Harry into the car, slamming the door behind him. Dudley looked white as a ghost, and Piers seemed exhilarated with all the action, but didn’t forget to shove Harry as far against the door as possible. They began to drive off, and Petunia decided that they were never going to return, lest it be a _venomous_ snake that escapes the next time they went.


	2. change is necessary, and not always evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> harry writes a letter, and adult competency actually rears it's head.  
> also, harry spots a goth in the wild, i sure hope it doesn't awaken anything in him.

Little Whinging was quiet most of the time, the neighbourhood serious in upholding the claim that they were a _nice_ neighbourhood, the good kind that didn’t have things like stealing, or crimes, or anyone with skin darker than a summer tan. Oh no, they didn’t have any of that, just a rumour mill that was so deadly and efficient that anyone out of the norm in the slightest got slaughtered behind their back. Number Eight still hasn’t been filled since the young woman that had moved in killed herself after only a month of living there.

The only reason the Dursleys were still going strong with Harry in the house is Aunt Petunia could dish out as much as she could take, and she could take a whole lot. She had managed to keep herself and her family afloat by being the most ruthless person in town. Because of that, Harry managed to avoid getting beat up verbally by anyone other than Dudley and Vernon, a lot of people outside of their household were already beaten down before they even walked out the door. 

So even though Vernon was the one bringing in the money, Petunia was the one keeping them thriving in a place where deviation from the normal was punished. Which was a feat considering a weird old man dropped of a baby at their doorstep a bit over a decade ago.

He tried to be normal, he really did, but Harry was a bit of a weird kid by nature. He did a lot of strange things, sure, but his disposition just had something a bit off. A lot of people on his street knew it, too, and if _they_ did, the whole of Little Whinging did. Harry didn’t particularly care that he ended up making more work for Petunia. Even though he didn’t particularly like Little Whinging, he didn’t exactly want them to be homeless.

People avoided him like the plague, deterred either by himself alone or his relatives, and so he had a bit of a hard time making friends. Now, having a humungous fuck-off snake as a familiar takes the cake in strangeness and sharing a language with it was the icing on top.

Harry thought that maybe at a Magic school he wouldn’t be seen as overly strange like he was here, since he would be surrounded by people who could do things like he could. He wasn’t getting his hopes up, though. Alastor had said that the gift of snake-tongue was rare even amongst wizards (Wizards? Magic-folk? Sorcerers? What was the right word?). Harry’s probably going to have a hard time, and he doubted he’d be able to keep it a secret since he liked to ask Alastor a lot of questions.

He sighed, pressing his chin to his chest, staring at the pages of thick parchment clutched in his hands. It was crumpled from when he had shoved it down his pants. Who even uses parchment now, anyways? Most people use plain old printer paper. And the writing looked really fancy, too, almost hard to read.

He was using a torch to light up the paper, it was dark outside, and Harry had decided to stay out a bit longer after finishing the daily- or nightly- garden maintenance. The only sounds were his own breathing, a cricket, and Alastor’s body sliding through the grass, eventually coming to loosely coil around him and rest their scaly head on Harry’s shoulder.

“I received this a couple days ago, an owl dropped it off,” Harry explained.

“ _Owls are usually the preferred mailing system used by the two-legged magic folk_.”

“Oh. I want to send a return letter, I have to write one up first, but the address is kind of vague, and I don’t know how to get an owl here to send it back. Are you able to help me with this?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Alastor hissed. “ _As your familiar, I can act as your mailing system, both sending and bringing letters for you. Due to the nature of our contract, I am able to apparate to any location or find any person that you need me to_.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. “So, I don’t have to worry about owls, you can send the letter for me? And ‘apparate’, what is that?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Alastor’s head bobbed on Harry’s shoulder. “ _I will send any and all letters to their intended receiver undetectable and untraceable. You will not have the express need to use an owl of any kind. Apparate is a word used by Magic folk to name a way of moving from point A to point B instantaneously_.”

“Oh, I think I’ve done something like that before, by accident.”

Harry pulled some paper out from between his pants and underwear, as well as a pen and blank envelope. He began to write, using Alastor’s side as a makeshift desk. They allowed it, staying close to Harry in the cool night air and watching the pen in Harry’s hand scratch against paper.

…

Minerva McGonagall was unreasonably busy. The school year was starting in a matter of weeks. The headmaster had a habit of skimping out on work and leaving Minerva to work on a doubled load while he ate candy and lost himself in thought. It was unbelievably frustrating, and if _she_ had the headmistress seat, she would _absolutely_ do all of her work ahead of time instead of dumping it on the poor deputy.

Her multiple quills scratched hurriedly against paper, only one being actually handled by her. She had to make a last-minute order for potion bottles, their resident potions master being unhappy with the declining quality from their current supplier. McGonagall had to scramble to find a new supplier and get them to send the stock in only a few weeks. It was a tall order and had Minerva writing letter after letter.

Her office was a mess, piled with papers and books and moving quills and impatient owls. She was harried, and became even more so when a large, what she assumed (hoped) to be a Python, showed up in her office with a pop. Minerva straightened in her seat, eyeing the animal warily.

“A familiar?” She asked, and the snake nodded. She held out a hand, and a white muggle envelope addressed to her appeared in her open palm with a smaller pop.

Carefully, Minerva opened the letter. She began to read, under the watchful eyes of the snake.

**_To Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Magic_ **

****

**_Hello, I'm Harry Potter._ **

**_I have recently received an invitation to complete my education at your school, paid in full by my late parents. I have a few questions I would like to ask about this._ **

**_I didn’t know that my parents did this. Until recently, I was also unaware that I even possessed Magic at all, so you can understand why I would be a little confused._ **

**_What exactly is your school, and what would my education entail?_ **

**_I would also like to ask, where do I get my uniform and supplies? I don’t think I would be able to find them at an ordinary shop. Also, I don’t have any money to buy the supplies._ **

**_I don’t know anything about Magic, and a lot of the things in that letter make no sense to me. Is there a dictionary or something that can explain to me the words I don’t know?_ **

**_My aunt and uncle don’t know about this, and I also have the challenge of explaining why I would be gone. They don’t like anything they think isn’t normal._ **

****

**_Also, the letter says that I can bring an owl, cat or toad if I want to. I was wondering if you could allow me an exception. I got told that animals like that enter a contract with the person, like a familiar. I already have a familiar, the Burmese Python that delivered this letter._ **

**_Their name is Alastor. I understand that they are big, and look scary, but they have promised to behave and not eat anything they shouldn’t. I’m unwilling to part with my familiar, and aside from errands, they are never far from my side. I would like to have them with me in place of an owl, cat or toad._ **

**_If you can’t provide me with this exception, I will not be attending your school._ **

**_I’m awaiting your reply, please give it to Alastor ASAP._ **

****

**_Sincerely, Harry Potter_ **

****

Minerva blinked. Then blinked again, glancing up at the snake. It had settled into a loose coil on the floor. It was making the owls in the room jittery, but she didn’t have time to focus on that.

She yanked open a drawer, pulling out some fresh parchment, and an envelope. She let one of her self-writing quills loose on the envelope and let it do its thing. She stood up, moving to the bookshelf against the nearby wall, having a cursory browse before pulling one out and moving back to her desk. She sat it on a stack of brown paper, and the book began to wrap itself, then being tied up with twine to hold it all together.

Re-inking her quill, McGonagall began to write her reply, busy enough to ignore her confusion on how Harry Potter had managed to get himself a proper familiar before even walking into the Castle walls, and said familiar being a snake, no less.

…

**_Dear Harry Potter_ **

****

**_Please forgive my oversight. These have been busy times leading up to the beginning of term, and I have neglected to provide you with adequate information and assistance in your transition to Magical Schooling. Since your parents were students at this school, both possessing Magical prowess, we have you registered in our systems as a [Magical] child, completely disregarding your current circumstance. I apologise profusely._ **

**_Eleven years ago, your late parents enrolled you into the school and paid in full once you were born and they were certain you would have functioning magic._ **

**_At Hogwarts, School of Magic, we teach students not only control over their powers, but avenues to let their power thrive. Things like potions, charms and transfiguration are staples of our Society, and we aim to arm students with that knowledge. We also teach the cultures of both Magic, and Non-Magic people, due to the diverse range of upbringing in the student body, among multiple other subjects._ **

**_It is a boarding school, which means full time stay at the school grounds, with quarterly breaks in which students have the option to either stay at the school or return home._ **

****

**_There is a place called Diagon Alley nearby your current residence, hidden from those who don’t know of it. It is considered one of the largest hubs of Magical Resources due to the varying range of shops and facilities. You will be able to buy everything you need there, and more._ **

**_I have appointed a faculty member to arrive at your residence in a weeks’ time in order to discuss your education with your guardians, and to escort you to Diagon Alley personally to get your school supplies and uniform._ **

**_In regard to the purchase of your school supplies, you have inherited a fortune from your late parents. I don’t know much more than that, you may be entitled to more. I knew your parents personally, as they were my students once, but I am afraid that is as far as my knowledge extends outside of personal speculations._ **

**_The faculty member escorting you will take you to Gringotts’ Bank at the top of Diagon Alley, and there you will be able to access your inheritance._ **

****

**_Thank you for asking about your familiar, we do provide exceptions to animal companions to those who ask ahead of time. We will gladly accept your familiar, Alastor, into our school, and will provide them with the correct facilities. You may have the issue of other students being intimidated by the snake, but rest assured, we will welcome them with open arms._ **

**_I understand it all must be very confusing, so I have provided a dictionary on common Magical terms alongside this letter, I do hope you find it helpful._ **

****

**_Kind Regards,_ **

**_Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall._ **

Harry stared at the letter, satisfied. All his questions were answered, and his concerns addressed, and now he didn’t have to do anything but wait. He was glad he had decided to send the letter. He had had a cursory flick through the dictionary, before shoving it down his pants, deigning to look at it properly later when he was alone in his cupboard.

Keeping Alastor hidden had proven to be an easy task, his aunt Petunia never giving more than a cursory glance over the yard to ensure it was up to her standards, and never looking up the tree that Harry’s familiar had made a temporary home. It was convenient, too, Harry getting help when he needed to reach things high up in the backyard, and there were way less mice in the vicinity, too.

It was also really nice just having someone to talk to. Alastor’s lilting hiss was a comfort he didn’t know he needed. Finally, he had someone on his side, someone who looked at his bruises with concern and contempt, when he hadn’t had the energy to in about half a decade. Someone who could even soothe them, making them heal faster with a wave of gentle golden magic.

Not only that, but Alastor didn’t get angry at him for sleeping in a cupboard when he didn’t have a choice, and remarked to Harry’s agreement, that the small space had meant safety, even though not necessarily comfort. Since Harry was okay with his sleeping arrangements for the time being, Alastor had deigned it something to be angry about at a later date.

Everything started to feel like the calm before a storm, the secret not weighing on Harry, but still resting in the forefront of his mind. He didn’t want to be the one to deal with his aunt and uncle being faced with something that they would undoubtedly hate. He had an adult coming to deal with it, and he was perfectly happy for them to deal with it alone.

The week passed too fast; Harry stuck in a weird normal that made him feel like his skin was too small. He did his chores, avoided his aunt and uncle, shared awkward spaces with his cousin, spoke to Alastor in secret holding onto the thought that he was going to leave it behind in a matter of days. It was almost too good to be true.

Then, in the late morning on a Tuesday, while Vernon was at work, there was a knock at the door. Aunt petunia left to answer it and returned with a plump woman with a warm smile, wearing a fancy shirt and pants that made her look like she worked in an office. Her grey hair was curly and framed her face, and she looked like the complete opposite to his aunt.

Harry, pausing from where he was wiping down the bench, stared at the women.

“Sit down,” Petunia said to Harry, gesturing to pristine couch opposite the one she sent the plump woman to sit down in.

Harry rushed to put the cloth away by the sink and headed into the living room, plopping down one end of the couch. Petunia sat on the other end, perched pristinely after the woman denied any tea.

“Hello, I am Pomona Sprout, I’m here to discuss your future education,” she pleasantly winked at Harry, knowing. He wished her luck with the conversation that was about to happen and leaned back into the couch when she turned to his aunt. “Your ward, Harry Potter, has recently received an invitation to a prestigious school, paid in full by his late parents- Lily and James Potter. I am sure you may have noticed this young man displaying some odd, maybe unnatural behaviours, or causing mysterious occurrences-”

Ms Sprout was beating around the bush, but Aunt Petunia must not have the patience for it today, cutting the woman’s speech off.

“I know about all of this Magic nonsense,” she snapped. “It’s that blasted school they sent my sister to, isn’t it? Hogwash, or what have you. I know he’s like that too, so get on with it.”

Ms Sprout paused, pleasant smile frozen on her face.

“Ah, right. Then I don’t have to ease you into it then,” she nodded to herself. “ _Hogwarts_ wishes to house Harry for the next seven years to educate him on his heritage, optionally for the breaks between terms as well. We will help him gain control of his powers, and there will certainly be far less accidents at home as a result. We do need your written consent as his guardian; however, it can be bypassed by the government if the need arises.”

“I don’t care, as long as he’s keeping that freaky nonsense away from my family. I want no part of it.”

“In the cases of the children with non-magical guardians, a member of the faculty is usually assigned to a support role. As long as you don’t want anything to do with this part of Harry’s life, I will be his support member for the foreseeable future.” Ms sprout nodded, pulling out a file full of paperwork and sorting them, placing a small stack in the middle of the coffee table that separated them. “If you are agreeing to Harry’s education at Hogwarts: School of Magic, please go through these and sign at the bottom of each one.”

“As long as he’s out of the house,” Petunia muttered, yanking the paperwork towards her, beginning to leaf through them.

“Also, I will be taking him to get his school supplies when you’re finished, I’ll return him before dinner.”

“Whatever,” Harry’s aunt muttered. He was honestly surprised that she didn’t blow up more. Harry guessed she was glad to be rid of him for at least a while, so wasn’t kicking up much of a fuss at the fact that she was directly faced with something she couldn’t stand.

Harry could feel elation shove against his ribs. He couldn’t believe he was actually going to be going to a boarding school for Magic. The part of him that was considered weird was being acknowledged, and maybe he wasn’t so weird after all.

He was happy he was able to get away and stay away without his aunt and uncle doing that weird hovering whenever he left the house. And he was glad he didn’t have to deal with it all himself. He Had had no idea how he was going to get to the school with all the things he needed with only Alastor by his side.

…

“There are many entrances to Diagon Alley, each of them different from each other. Some are like doors, others are more like teleporting. It depends on where you go.” Ms Sprout explained, leading Harry through the streets of Surrey. They reached a small café called ‘Sweet Dragon’ and headed inside. It was pleasantly bustling, people were dressed a little more outrageously than the people in little whinging, and Harry’s eyes caught on a person with dark skin wearing all black clothes that stood out more than anyone else. They were sitting with their chair backwards, slumped and staring at the person they were with, someone wearing a fluffy sweater and seemed to be sketching in a journal.

Their black pants were tight, and shiny, a black lacey shirt that was very loose and sheer was tucked under a corset that went halfway up their back. No one else in the whole place was dressed like them. Seemingly sensing Harry’s stare, the person turned around, catching his eyes, they seemed to flash, and a grin filled with sharp teeth split their face, fangs slightly catching on their black-painted bottom lip.

Harry’s eyes went wide, feeling his breath stutter. No one would _dare_ dress like that in Little Whinging, at all. Harry was utterly captivated.

“See something you like?” the person asked, not unkindly, beckoning him over. Harry glanced at Ms Sprout behind him, she was talking to the person at the counter. He headed to the person, heart jumping in his chest.

“You- Wow!” Harry spluttered. “Yeah, you look really cool.”

The person chuckled. “Thanks, what’s your name?”

“I’m Harry, my pronouns are usually him and he, what’s yours?”

“Only usually?” the person asked. “And I’m Atlas, he and him.”

“Uh- well, they is ok, too, I think. And it’s nice to meet you. I don’t mean to be rude, but do you usually dress like that?”

Atlas nodded at him. “It’s nice to meet you too, kid. And it’s fine, I dress like this most of the time. It’s how I express myself.”

“Wow,” Harry said. He thought it would be nice to express himself through his clothes, but he only had Dudley’s cast-offs. “That’s awesome.”

“It can be hard, when you’re first getting into it,” Atlas said, knowingly. “Don’t beat yourself up if you can’t find a way for your clothes to reflect you. It’s a process, so just go with whatever you can get your hands on, and you can even make some stuff yourself, just be safe about it.”

“I- thanks.” Harry said, then leaned forward, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “You know, the people back where I live don’t wear anything like that, like at all. I think it would be a bit too crazy for them.”

Atlas chuckled again, noticing Ms Sprout watching them over Harry’s shoulder.

“I see, sounds a little boring, if I'm being honest. Well, I think that's your cue,” he gestured behind Harry. “Keep yourself safe, Harry. It was nice chatting with you.”

Harry nodded, glancing at Ms Sprout waiting patiently, done with her talk with the cashier.

“Thanks, I will. It was nice meeting you.” Harry straightened. “See you,”

“See you around, kid,” Atlas waved, turning back to his companion, going back to watching them sketch.

Ms Sprout led him into a neutral bathroom, ignoring Harry’s confused look.

“To Diagon Alley,” She announced, pressing a few random tiles on the back wall.

The wall opened up from the gaps between two tiles, expanding into a rectangular gap that seemed to be opening into an empty alley way. Harry could hear the sound of people close by.

“Well, off we go,” She ushered him through the gap, it closed back up behind her once she stepped out behind him. “First stop, Gringotts Bank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! another chapter is up. i usually wait until i've started the next chapter ahead, but i was eager to get this out.  
> a few folks might be ooc, but i kind of find it hard to care.  
> hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first work in this fandom, please be nice to me.  
> i am, in fact, ignoring my other work that needs updating, because i like to make things hard for myself, apparently.   
> i absolutely loathe canon, and honestly, J.K can die by my blade.   
> so i'm ignoring it almost entirely.   
> please let me know what you think, and also if you have any trigger warnings, or tags you want me to add.   
> enjoy!


End file.
